


Temporary Suspension

by kronette



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Post-Episode: s02e13 Mizumono
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2020-11-02 02:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: A ficlet for @alixsinclair-emt, who I promised to write something for over the weekend and didn’t get to it. So here it is, set at the beginning of S3. Will's thought processes after waking up in the hospital, and what he could have done differently.





	Temporary Suspension

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my inbox from January 2018. No idea why I didn't post it here at the time.

Will Graham was adrift.

Released from the hospital but not from his own mind, Will drifted aimlessly through his days of recovery, the sight of his dogs lounging around his house no longer familiar and comforting.

Abigail remained quietly by his side, her blood-splattered body slowly becoming clean and whole again.

Over and over, Will replayed the moment before the knife slid into his skin: the coolness of Hannibal’s hand against his cheek, the fathomless disappointment in the amber eyes, the revelation that Hannibal had changed _for him_, _because_ of him, both thrilling and terrifying.

He was weakened from blood loss and pain; made weaker still from the knowledge that he had been changed as well. In all his years as a beat cop, Will had never been able to pull the trigger, but the second he had Hannibal Lecter at his back, he emptied his gun into Garret Jacob Hobbs. _Preening_. Showing off, Hobbs’ _See?_ taking on a multitude of meanings. A subconscious need to be seen by a like mind, one as brilliant and disturbing and magnificent as his own. One that didn’t let him hide behind polite society’s laws and ethics.

_I liked killing Garret Jacob Hobbs. _

_I’m still not entirely sure that wasn’t my intention, pulling the trigger. _

Whenever the sun was up, Will dragged himself from bed, fed the dogs, let them run outside until his lungs burned from the cold air, whistled them back inside, then ate something. What, he didn’t know, but he knew that food went into his mouth and stomach, medication was washed down with cold water from the tap, the sun went down and he ate something else. What, he didn’t know, but food went into his mouth and then stomach until he could crawl back into bed and sleep.

He let his phone battery die. He secluded himself and Abigail away from the world and nursed his wounds - the uncomfortable pull across his stomach when he pushed himself to his feet, and the no longer deniable ache in his chest.

Even though Hannibal was a serial killer and it was Will’s _job_ to bring him to justice, the guilt of betraying their friendship gutted him, the irony not lost on him. Even from God knows where, Hannibal was still pushing him, still forcing him to _see_.

The ache was abandonment manifest as a symptom of something much more insidious: Will wanted to go with him. In the split-second _We couldn’t leave without you_, Will saw their future and he _yearned_ for it. Saw himself begging for forgiveness and absolution for his deception. Heard conversations long into the night about philosophy and religion and morals. Saw the arcs and rivers of blood spilled between the three of them. His heart had raced in fear and excitement, but now it beat dully within his hollow chest, a reflection of the hollow life he was left with.

The sky was dark, so he cooked food, chewed and swallowed it, then went to bed.

He didn’t know if he slept or merely lost himself in his mind for hours at a time. The non-feeling remained the same and he assumed it would always be that way. _He_ would always be that way, until the sun was up and he couldn’t make himself put food in his mouth any more.

Until the sun was up and Abigail smiled at him. He put food in his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then pulled on his coat and hat, gloves and boots, and gathered his car keys.

He drove to the coast, purchased a cheap boat, hitched the trailer to his jeep, and drove back to Wolf Trap.

When the sun went down, he ate and went to bed. When the sun came up, he ate, pulled on his thickest outerwear and began to dismantle the locked engine. Abigail watched as he methodically placed engine parts on a tarp, a pleased smile on her face.

They were going to find Hannibal exactly where Hannibal expected them to find him. Will didn’t know yet what he would say to him. He would wait to hear Hannibal’s voice, and then decide.


End file.
